A Wedding
by chandlerina
Summary: A wedding is planned in the blooming garden behind Grissom and Sara's home. Everything is perfect, the flowers are real and Hank has a green pillow to sleep on. Will Heather showing up ruin this? GSR and Grissom/Heather.


Everything he knew about weddings, he'd learned from books. Although the greatest poetry was written in misery, he could name a handful of poems describing a bride's happiness and a groom's pride. He'd never really attended any weddings, except for the few _obligated_ ones, such as the Mayor's, all three of them. And, of course, Catherine's. He had, however, walked down many isles collecting evidence. But most of his knowledge came from books.

He didn't know if it was good or bad that his future wife didn't know much about weddings either. Together, they decided that an outdoors event would suit them best. Flowers, such as jasmine and poppies that drew butterflies close. Catherine, Nick and Greg. The need for more people didn't exist, but those three were obvious choices. Later on, Catherine suggested they'd try to invite at least ten guests, to enhance the feeling of an actual wedding, and though neither Grissom nor Sara was against only having three people there, they didn't really object. And maybe it would be nice?

He'd realized it'd be the first time he'd see her in a dress. He actually hadn't even thought about it until she came home one day, smiling from ear to ear, saying she'd found the perfect dress for the wedding. Underlining that it probably wasn't a _real_ wedding dress, but it was somewhat white and it'd look good with the flowers they'd already picked out. He wasn't going in a tux. No bow tie. Nothing like that. A simple off-white shirt (that Catherine approved, saying it wouldn't clash with Sara's dress) and dark dress pants.

The ten people actually became twelve when all the invites were done. Just a few more people from the lab: Archie, Doc Robbins, Superdave, a few of the lab rats. Brass. And a couple of Grissom's friends from outside the lab, to Catherine's delight. (Wow, you actually have a life? She'd said with a teasing smile.)

It fitted perfectly to choose a summer wedding, late August to be more precise, because that's when they'd had some time to settle in their new place. A house. With a garden. The house wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either. It had two floors, three rooms upstairs. A kitchen and a large living room downstairs. They turned the rooms upstairs into one bedroom, one guestroom and one office. Framed butterflies and Sara's large African print covered the walls in the living room, where Hank's green pillow took up the space next to the book shelves.

The garden, however, was huge. The house was built in the 1940s, and since the previous owner hadn't cared much for it, there were bushes and flowers older than Grissom himself. After moving in, they spent a lot of time cutting trees and making sure everything grew right. Come August, the garden was magnificent. The open space in the middle was surrounded by roses, pink and red and yellow and white, framing the whole backyard in an explosion of colors. There were orange and apple trees, magnolia and jasmine. Lillys. Poppies.

They'd hired a minister and Nick and Greg came to help putting out chairs. The isle led up to a huge jasmine tree, where the air buzzed with bumblebees and butterflies, and where the guests would be free from getting the sun directly in their eyes. When everyone was gathered, and when Grissom had taken the few steps down towards Sara, he turned to meet her eyes, to smile and see how beautiful she was. Because she really was. There was something different about her, the way her hair was partially tied back and the way her necklace glittered in the sun. She smiled and squeezed his hand and he nodded, turning to the minister.

Exchanging vows was easy, and he made a mental note to thank Catherine for telling them to invite more people. It was nice. Kissing Sara and letting his hand linger a while longer against her neck, he heard everyone exchange happy words and he turned his head towards them. Nick and Greg grinned, while Catherine nodded and winked, which made him laugh. Everything was perfect. Everyone was happy.

Including the woman in the back, the one he hadn't invited. Heather. He felt himself lose his smile, but she shook her head as if telling him not to panic. But what was she doing there? Catherine must have noticed the change in him, because she turned her head to see what he was looking at. Then she got up and applauded, congratulating him and Sara, before turning to tell everyone that drinks and food were at the table over by the roses. Saving him. Again.

He kissed Sara once again and by now, she'd noticed Heather too. Surprisingly, or maybe not, she turned to him, smiled and said she needed to get the ice to the drinks. Then she rushed off, leaving him alone there in the buzz of butterflies. Heather smiled, her face gentle and calm as she walked up towards him. She was dressed in light colors, which was unusual, he'd never seen her like that. A skirt that ended just above the knee, a short-sleeved shirt with a string down the back, like a corset. Beige with flower patterns. Her hair was curled and loose, blowing against her neck in a sudden breeze. "Congratulations," she said, smiling gently.

"Heather?" he said, mostly because he was confused and he didn't know what to say. What was she doing here? "What-,"

Cutting him off, she lifted her eyebrows and said, "Am I doing here? Don't worry, Grissom. Though my reasons for coming here weren't entirely innocent, I do believe you once called me your friend. And as your friend, I wanted to be here and congratulate you." Her words were spoken in a calm voice and her smile was genuine. She was beautiful.

Behind her, he could see some of the others looking at them, their foreheads wrinkled. But then he looked back at her and she held something in her hands, a book. "Heather," he said again, but didn't know how to continue and as always, she sensed it in him.

"I'll leave soon, I just wanted to give you this," she said, giving him the book. It was bound in leather and when he opened it, he noticed the pages didn't match. Some pages were hand-written, some typewritten, some had quotation marks, while others had words and notes. "It's a collection of notes," she explained, reaching out to turn a few pages. "This, for instance, is Mark Twain. These two are poems I found in the attic. And this," she started, turning yet another couple of pages, "is you."

He looked at the page. It had a handwritten note on it, word after word describing someone. Him. "You wrote this?"

"I wrote everything in this book. The quotes from memory and everything else from heart. Ever since I met you, I've been spending more time reading, and now, writing. It's a great way to calm the mind. And I want you to have this. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here right now. And even if I was, I wouldn't be who I am right now."

He looked into her eyes. "Heather, I've never doubted your strength. Don't thank me."

"I want to. You saved my life."

Reaching out to touch her hand, he must have surprised her, because she looked down and then back up again. "Thank you. I'll read this honored. Now, please, stay. Have some food."

It was true, everything he knew about weddings, he'd learned from books. And the things he didn't know, he'd figured out along the way. Watching his wife and his friends watch Heather walk up towards them, probably smiling softly and reaching out her hand to shake Sara's, he wondered if it'd been a good choice to let her stay. Maybe things would get awkward, and maybe the afternoon would get ruined? He watched closely as Sara looked at him, and then looked at Heather. He watched as she smiled and leaned in closer to wrap an arm around Heather's back. He watched how Heather wrapped her arms around Sara, how Catherine smiled and how Nick reached for another glass of champagne.

He watched how everyone turned to him and raised their glasses, waiting for him to join them by the table. Then he watched how Sara joined him and clung to him, and how Heather nodded and raised her glass a little higher. Catherine had been right. Having his friends there was amazing.

Even if one of them still had his heart.


End file.
